Born and Bred
by HereComesTheGeneral
Summary: How does a kid in fashion school end up back on the streets in 1899? I have no idea either. I'm Quincy, and this is my story.


Hi, I'm Quincy, and I'm a newsie. I wasn't always one, but its a bit different than most people may think, you see, the day I became a newsie, was the day that Brad Netts decided he had enough of guessing.

It was 10 am on a Tuesday, and I was on my way to school, fashion school, to be precise, when Brad walked in front of me, turned around, and pushed me to the ground. "Hey, which one are you? Faggot or dyke?" When I didn't answer, he kicked me, "I asked you a question!" We were in an empty alley, make shortcut to school, so nobody was able to stop this from happening. "I'm genderfluid, of course, you would need a few brain cells to figure that out," Oh, did I mention that? No? Well, damn my big mouth, it always gets me in more trouble than it's worth at the worst of times, and stays shut when it needs to stay open. "What'd you say to me, freak?" He kicked me again, even harder this time. I groaned in pain. "Why don't I just figure it out for myself, huh?" With that, he yanked me upwards and made a move to pull my pants down, when a shout was heard from the end of the alley, "Hey, get your damn hands off him!" (Get the Back to the Future reference?) My personal hero, my best friend Jasper, had come to step in. How did I know it was him? Well, voice recognition aside, I always met up with Jasper. Jasper was a pretty tough guy, and I knew for a fact that Brad would listen to him, he'd gained a certain level of respect ever since he bested Brad awhile ago. "Y-yes, Sir- I mean Mister- I mean-"

"Just get out of here!" Jasper interrupted him. Brad hurried away.

"I could have dealed with him myself, thank you very much!" I said, upset that I, once again, had been unable to come to my own rescue.

"Well, next time that asshole comes at you, I'll leave you to it!"

"How'd you know I'm a guy today?"

"I'm starting to get pretty good at predicting!"

I looked at him skeptically.

"Just kidding! I could tell you were wearing your bind."

My bind. If you don't know what that is, think of when you buy a sports bra, and its so tight that it hides your boobs. Its kind of like that, except it's made to be like that. "Hmph." My creative response came. We walked the rest of the way to school in silence. When we got there, we split off, me to the fashion building, and him to the engineering building. "Bye! See you after school?" I called.

"Yeah, I rented a few old movies we can watch!"

"Sounds great!"

I gave him two thumbs up as I turned around and headed into my building.

You know that smell of new clothes and fabric that hits you when you walk in a store? That's what it smells like all over the Chanel Institute of Fashion. Everything about the place screams fashion and clothes. There are little bits of fabric and thread littering the ground from people's dropped supplies, there are full outfits designed by the students on display, my most proud creation standing front and center. It was a throwback outfit inspired by the newsies strike, with the signature hat and everything. I had just barely finished it yesterday in time for the show today, they were letting all of the students from all over campus attend a fashion show where we were displaying our first semester works. Oh, how I couldn't wait to show the world my beautiful designs, or, at least the school. When I stepped into my classroom, my teacher quickly relayed instructions to me to try on my outfits and make final adjustments before we got up on stage. Only three hours until the world would know my name. I quickly went through my different creations until I got to my last one, the newsie design. I changed into it and closed my eyes, this would be my big debut, and there is no other outfit I would rather do it in. The design was just gender neutral enough that, with an adjustment or two, it could be feminine or masculine, and I made the proper adjustments for the latter. And when I looked in the mirror, I felt at home in the fabric, the neutral colors, the pure beauty of an outfit well made. I reached out to touch the mirror, entranced in my image, and I fell through.


End file.
